'Death Be Not Proud'

Some people leave a mark on this world, on our lives; others just pay a small visit. As the dark clouds covered the Kalimpong Stadium on August 16, i was standing under an umbrella to watch the final of a school-level soccer tournament along with some local friends. Suddenly, a reporter of a Hindi daily told me that an Anna Hazare supporter had been shot in Bhopal amid the arrest drama in New Delhi over the Gandhian's fast. I asked him who s/he was but he could not give me details then. After a few hours as i came down to Siliguri that evening, i saw 100-odd people brave the heavy rain to take out a rally with posters and candles with pro-Anna, anti-corruption slogans. A lady's picture on one of the posters took me by surprise. She was Shehla Masood. By then, the web world must have been flooded with her pictures and news of her murder in Bhopal.

My communication with Shehla dates back to 2009. That was the time when a lot of like-minded activists of the country started various online campaigns on a whole lot of issues from Binayak Sen to RTI to NREGA among others. Shehla, a former model, was by then known for her campaigns — both real and virtual — across a large section of the society. Her interests also included ecological imbalance and protecting tigers. As i write this piece, no concrete evidence has till been found why Shehla was killed but one point is very clear to all of her friends and well-wishers: her mission did not end in the murder but her killers showed us how a braveheart takes bullets to fight for causes. Hours before she was killed, she re-tweeted: "'It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies. But a great deal more to stand up to your friends' - A. P. W. B. Dumbledore." That says it all about her 38 years' existence.

A few years back, now-defunct but highly intellectual Bengali magazine, Dhrubapad, brought out a special number, "Dosh jon onyorokom Bangali (10 different Bengalis)". A lady painter was portrayed there as one's next-door granny who is not only caring but also loves cooking, and moreover breaks into laughter like a child if her guests are found enjoying her delicacies. But Shyamali Khastagir was more than an artist. With several others in JOAR (Jharkhand Organisation Against Radiation), she gave Jadugoda a new strength to fight uranium radiation among impoverished innocent villagers. A lifelong fight against uranium depletion and other issues took her across several countries.

Daughter of pioneering artist Sudhir Khastagir, Shyamali'di even once courted arrest while protesting in front of the White House; she was also instrumental in stopping to flag off a car rally from the Santiniketan Ashram area. During my stay at Santiniketan, I saw her from close quarters; on many an occasion she asked me to arrange shows for films on several subjects like the US invasion in Iraq, how marine ecology was threatened during Gulf War, how people were slow-poisoned by uranium radiation. Doors of her real abode of peace at Santiniketan's Purbapalli were always open to all. People were treated with home-made ladoos or even muri! She used to live a simple life, true to Tagore's ideal. Besides an environmentalist, she was also a friend of the underprivileged. Some years back, i was going to Santiniketan and on the train, i found Shyamali'di sitting pretty by the window. Soon after the train pulled out of Howrah, a hijra — who i knew for several months then — came to ask for alms. As i told the hijra, Kavita, not to beg like this but try to find a private job, as Kavita was a graduate unlike many other hijras, Shyamali'di gave Kavita a hug and invited to meet her at Santiniketan so that Kavita could be given a job, at least vocational training like many others financed by the septuagenarian lady.

Women like Shehla and Shyamali'di are true-life inspiration to me, and of course many others. In their deaths, they made us more responsible to make this planet for a healthier and better tomorrow.

Bars, Debars and Debates

More than a month has passed since i updated my blog with a new post. It’s not that i did not have time to write or did not have an issue to share my thoughts on. Sheer laziness in addition to my addiction to treks and trips made me a bit busy from the mundane things of life, ruled by some people in our near and far circles. Right after coming down from a semi-high-altitude trek to Hemkund Sahib, i was greeted by an otherwise cool guy at an Old Delhi bar a few minutes before i was about to take the Rajdhani back home: “Hey dude! You are looking cool man”! I was pretty sure it was not intended at me, as i’d never come across such a cat-call (or compliment?) in my innumerable tipsy trips to bars in several towns in the country. But it is a different bar tucked in a corner of Paharganj. Christened ‘My Bar’, this one is a bit different from most of the Delhi bars in terms of ambience and patrons. Characteristically, it has more proximity to Kolkata’s Olypub, where we used to frequent even a few years ago as on any weekend afternoon, My Bar is teemed with college-goers, backpacking foreigners, mid-level corporate executives et al. Olypub, with its decades-old reputation of offering beef-steaks as well as booze at a much cheaper rate than its more affluent neighbours on Park Street, is not a mere popular joint for youngsters only but also a place that would stir debates on Anna and ranna (recipe)!

To talk of Anna (as i just mentioned his name), in a democratic country where we elect representatives to the legislature, a person has made it clear that he can hold the nation to ransom even as he hardly believes in parliamentary democracy. The self-proclaimed Gandhian — at least he is adept in going on fast for days like the Father of the Nation although he disdains degrees from foreign university even as the latter had studied abroad — has not allowed its fellow law-abiding citizens in taking part in panchayat elections in the last two decades! If people ask him questions why this had happened in one of the most progressive villages in not only Maharashtra but also in the country, he would hardly give an answer. An autocratic philanthropist in his heart, Anna probably thinks he is India, as some of his supporters took the famous D K Baruah’s phrase to compliment the septuagenarian who has made a vow to defy the Constitution and particularly Parliament to fight for a cause that seems unrealistic. He has been on a dramatic run, quite literally after the Raj Ghat episode, for the past fortnight. Being in the limelight for quite some time now, his attitude towards people at large, except his close comrades, is like a guardian angel of India. His disciples are growing fast with every hour as he is steadfast on his indefinite fast. Thousands of people in colourful attire with sumptuous khichdi on one hand and the Tricolour on the other, march for the Gandhian with a simple promise that they would cleanse the system of corruption; they would no longer pay Rs 1000 bribe to the DIB officer before verification for passport, or grease the palms of TTEs on trains for an upper class berth, or pay just Rs 5000 to the UDC for waiver of civic tax at hundreds of municipalities, or transfer some cool bucks under a heap of papers for releasing the pension file at the same office that he had served just months back!